A Fax Christmas
by loveofallthatisawesome
Summary: Fang ruined Max's social life. She hates his guts. He's her roommate's brother, and he's coming home for the holidays. Therefore Max knows it's going to be the worst X-mas ever. Max. Fang. Mistletoe. The worst...or the best? T for cursing and make-outs. Written by Keepdreaming93.


**This story belongs to and was written entirely by keepdreaming93 who has decided to delete her account and has given me permission to post this story on my account. **

**Disclaimer: James Patterson owns everything from Maximum Ride**

"Oh, and Max, Fang's coming back home for Christmas. He's supposed to get here today."

That was at 7:37 a.m., Wednesday. My day was ruined from the instant I woke up. I mean, couldn't she at least tell me, like, before I went to sleep, so that the suckishness of the situation would only be ruining me while I was unconscious? But no.

Fang is a bastard. He's also my best friend, Ella's, older brother. Seeing him is like being shitted on by a thousand pigeons, all at once. For a whole year. That's how terrible he is. He's annoying, and all dark and stuff. Every time I see him I have to keep my guard up, afraid that once I let it down, he's gonna cast an evil spell on me or something. And that's never fun. I mean, it's never happened to me before or anything, but if someone gave me a choice between going and skipping around in a meadow full of daisies (gag) or getting an evil spell cast on me, I'd choose the skipping. And that's saying something.

Anyway, back to the butthead. That's an alliteration. So is this: Stiletto shoes are for slutty, stuck up snobs (cough-Lissa-cough). I would have added her into the previous sentence, but the "L" of her name wouldn't fit into the "S"s that it contained. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah; Fang. He's such a jerk. I mean, apart from only wearing black and kind of just sitting there and being quiet as he daydreams about other emo boys (I'm pretty sure he's gay, because once Lissa kissed him and he kind of did this weird karate thing and kicked her off of him. One point for Fang.), he also does this stupid little smirk whenever I talk. Like I'm stupid or something. It's that, "Oh, silly little girl," smirk. I _hate_ those smirks. I hate _him._

You probably think that I'm overreacting, right? WRONG. I've hated him ever since we were little, before he moved away to his aunt's house for some stupid reason. He says that it's because there were better colleges there, but I think the Martinez's just got tired of his bullshit. That was when he was thirteen. When we were thirteen, guess what he did?

Did you guess "Hung my bras in the cafeteria and the flag pole, froze pudding in the cups, then had the lunch lady serve them for lunch?" Then damn. You, my friend, are a smart one. Yeah, he did. Most girls were in training bras, but I've always been kind of an early bloomer. It took forever for me to stop getting teased about it and for me to get friends. I mean, I seem all "Haha, I hate the bastard, must get revenge, I'm so pissed" but it really did hurt my feelings. Don't tell anybody, but I cried for four days straight. Just because I was being teased so much. And guess what else? It was right before Christmas break. So the holidays aren't the most spectacular thing ever.

So, yeah: I. Hate. Fang.

He comes back for some holidays, and since everybody in my family is dead (depressing, right?) I always spend them with the Martinez's. They are SO NICE. They practically treat me like I'm part of the family. Ella's my best friend, I love her. Valencia (her mom) always makes me cookies and treats me like her daughter. Jeb is nice, kind of just _there_, but nice, nonetheless, and Angel and Gazzy, the twins, are super adorable. I mean, really, where did Fang go wrong? It's always supposed to be the youngest that malfunctioned. Where the husband and wife look at each other and say, "Dammit, honey, we should have stopped at _ kids." But it was the _first _child. And they still decided to have more! They just got lucky. I would never have tried to have more kids after one tornado of disaster popped out. I would have just jumped off a cliff, all the way down screaming, "IT'S NOT MINE. I SWEAR TO GOD IT'S NOT MINE. TAKE IT. JUST TAKE IT AWAY."

So, you see, I wasn't a happy camper when I heard that the stupid brat was going to be spending Christmas with me. He didn't come at all for the holidays last year because he was too busy, and I was hoping for another Fang-Free 2010, but _no._ _No _way _that Max can do without the torture._ I screamed hard into my pillow, kind of like a dying baby would sound. But worse. And more pissed off. And not really sad. Okay. The baby was a bad analogy.

"Oh, shut up, Max," Ella said, stepping out of her bedroom to step into mine. I screamed louder, and felt her weight as she sat on the edge of my bed. "You're such a drama queen."

I stopped my screaming to laugh loudly. Me. A drama queen. Called a drama queen by Ella. _Iggy looked into my eyes today. I think I love him. Iggy kissed me on the forehead. The world just got that much sweeter. Iggy and I had sex. My life is perfect!_ _Oh my god! Iggy was talking to another girl! The world is coming to an end. Make it stop. Make the pain ssttoppp!_

I snorted.

"Fang isn't bad," she assured me. "I love him. He's great." As great as people dying in Africa. "And, you know, I'm his sister and everything, but even _I _can admit that he's really hot." That's just gross. She's his sister. "And it's Christmas. There's gonna be mistletoe...my mission is to get you guys together. Ah, you'd be the cutest couple ever!"

HA. HA. HA. HA. HA.

As cute as llamas with machine guns blowing up the dying people in Africa.

"Okay, Ella, shut up. I'll stop screaming if you just shut up." I sat up and wiped my eyes, then met her bright brown ones. "It's not that I _hate _Fang..." She gave me a look. "Okay, I totally hate Fang._Why _does he have to go home for Christmas, though? Can't we just enjoy it by ourselves...?"

"Because, Max, I really, really miss him." Aw, dammit. She was using that soft "my puppy just died" voice. A toast to making Max feel like the biggest bitch on the planet. Clink.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to take a shower."

And that's where I am now. Just kidding, pervs that just thought of me naked. I got out of the shower. And now I'm at the table, cutting up some lettuce to make a salad. The doorbell rang. I screamed, nearly chopping my finger off. Then I opened the door, saw Fang, and stabbed the knife right into his heart.

"_No, Max, nnooooooooo," _he cried out in pain, clutching his chest, sinking to the floor.

"That's for ruining my social life, you stupid, gay, emo bastard!" Then I laughed evilly and put one foot on his body. You know, like how those people do when they climb to the apex of a mountain. Like that. "VICTORY IS MINE!"

Just kidding. I didn't do any of that. I just threw my forehead into the counter and groaned before dragging my body to the door and opening it. There he stood, in all his emo glory.

"Hey, fuckface," I said, smiling as bright as I could. "I'm so glad you're here! My life just got thiiisss much better!" I spread my arms as wide as I could.

He clutched a hand to his heart, kind of like how he did in my murder fantasy. "Aw, Max, you're really hurting my heart."

I snorted. "What heart? Emos don't have hearts. They just have their emoness. Also their hair. Speaking of which, you need to cut yours. It looks stupid. Just like your face."

I would have done a little _ohh, burrrnn_ but I knew it wasn't a good insult. Dammit.

"I'm not emo," he said, shoving me out of the way and coming inside. I slammed the door behind him and plopped myself onto a stool next to him, leaning over to continue my chopping of the salad, the knife slamming down harder, pretending that it was his stupid, olive toned flesh, not the lettuce. There we sat, in silence except for the chopping of the knife. Stab. Stab. Stab.

"FAANNNGGGG!" It was Ella, barreling into the kitchen and clutching him into her arms, kissing his face. I threw up a little inside of my mouth. "Oh, Fang, I missed you. I missed you so much."

And he hugged her back. If you looked at it from the right angle, it was actually kind of cute. "I missed you, too, baby."

She's not a baby. She's eighteen. But even I'll admit, that was adorable.

"Max, group hug?" Ella asked. I laughed and chopped at the lettuce. Group hug. Like I would ever get close to that beast, ever.

-s-d-f-g-h-j-k-l-

So, Christmas inched closer. And you know what, I hate him, but he really was a help with the decorations and stuff. The house was all dolled up, shiny and lit up, ready for the holiday. Only to be torn down in a week. It made NO SENSE. Why put up decorations if they're just gonna be put away, like, in a little bit? The world is full of such pointless things. Like Fang. Whose bed I'm in right now.

Don't get any wrong ideas.

So there was this bug. It was disgusting, huge, and crawling around. In my sheets. Now, I'm a beast and I'm hardly ever scared, but this bug was really gross. So I screamed. Which I don't do often. First Ella came in, a lighter sleeper, but as soon as she saw the cause of my scream she ran out to barf. Then, Fang came in, and when he saw it, he laughed. The fucker _laughed._ Was it annual, _Make Max look stupid_ day? It was only a day, because I _never_ felt stupid. But now I did. If he wasn't scared, why was I?

"I'll get it," he said. Then he came all the way into the room, out of the shadows. He didn't have a shirt on. And my god, I hoped that the bug was uncooperative so that he would stay longer just so I could stare at him. He had the greatest torso ever. I wanted to lick his abs and chest. Is that even a normal craving? I think _not._ And yet, here I was, trying to keep my hands off of the boy who ruined my life in middle school. As he passed, my fingers brushed his bare back, and he froze for a second before continuing. He grabbed a napkin and held it over the hideous thing, then killed it and threw the napkin in the trashcan.

"Goodnight, Max," he called as he walked out, flicking off the light.

"I can't sleep in here now!" He flicked the light on. "What if there are more bugs?"

Sure, the fear of having huge, gross bugs crawling over me while I slept wasn't the only reason I stalled (I wanted to check Fang out more) but it played a huge part.

"There's no more bugs," he said calmly.

"How do you know? And, plus, you killed it on my bed, so I can't sleep there."

Fang sighed. "Alright, you can sleep in my bed."

"No! I won't sleep in your bed!" I screamed.

"Not with me in it, stupid. I'll sleep on the couch." Okay. He killed a bug for me. Plus he's really hot. A boy that hot doesn't deserve to sleep on a couch. I wouldn't want it to mess up his hotness. Okay, that totally didn't make sense. Never mind.

"I'll sleep on the couch," I said, snatching a pillow from my bed and trudging out of the room, flipping off the light. "Thanks for killing the bug."

He snatched my wrist. "I'll sleep on the couch. Take my bed." I did like the thought of sleeping where he did, half clothed.

Oh, god, what? I hated him. Just because he was insanely hot didn't mean that I didn't. But he killed a bug for me. It's so nice. No, it's not. He _had_ to kill a bug. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. So he was a gentleman. But he _wasn't._ He had hung my bras up for everyone to see. Not a gentlemanly thing to do. But my GOD HIS ABS. AND HIS CHEST.

"You can sleep in your bed," I insisted. "I'll take the—"

He threw me over his shoulder. Yeah. The fool _touched _me.

But then, get this: When I tried to fight back, he was _stronger _than me, and trapped my hands at my sides, continuing his kidnapping. Stronger! Than _me_! Yeah. Let's all be silent in a moment of complete awe.

…

…

…

Alright; moment over.

So I just let him carry me to his bed. And then he laid me down and tucked the covers around me, like a good person would do. It wasn't incredibly sweet for such an asshole. Then: HE KISSED MY FOREHEAD. Okay, he didn't, like, make out with my forehead or anything, just brushed his lips over it. Yeah.

"What the hell!" I tried to scream, kicking him away. Instead, I just stayed there and closed my eyes.

This was extremely irritating.

"Goodnight, Max," he said, then flicked off the light before heading out into the living room.

I was so confused that I didn't get one second of sleep. At least, that's what I thought, but I guess I fell into slumber (haha, slumber, I feel like I'm 100 years old) in the early hours of the morning, because when I woke up a boy was curled around my body, arms around my waist, face in my neck. This boy was dark eyed and dark haired and he was very muscular and attractive, so in my unconscious state I just snuggled up against this boy. Who wouldn't?

Wait for it, wait for it...

"FANG? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?"

Yeah. It was the emo-demon.

I was _not _a very happy person when I awoke. But it was for the weirdest reason. I quite enjoyed feeling him next to me, curled around me. I enjoyed his kisses as they brushed along my neck. I enjoyed his hand on my hip. I was being pulled into his sexiness. I wasn't too afraid to admit it. I mean, it sucked that I kind of liked him now, but I knew it was true. He really was sexy. Also it was really sweet that he tucked me in and everything last night. I wasn't about to get into an argument with my brain about it (only psychotic people do that), and so I accepted it. I just sort of hated myself. I promised to never forgive him. And yet here I was, six years later, forgiving his ass. Just because he was that hot.

But that's not what I was even angry about. Here it is: I was angry because I woke up next to him, looking like crap. My hair was ratty and gross and knotted, my old makeup was lingering on my cheeks. My clothes were bunched up right below my bra and my shorts were unevenly moved up on each leg. This meant that Fang's hand was on my bare stomach, and his lips were pressed into disgusting brown hair. It would be different if I were dressed up beautifully and my eyes looked perfect and my hair was brushed...

But I was not. I looked like someone who barfed, ate their own barf, then barfed it up again. And then stabbed it with a huge knife over repeatedly, then made it suffer through a slow, long, terrible death. Then ate it and shitted it out. That's how bad it was.

I was having a heart attack in my brain. That doesn't even make sense. That's how big of a dilemma this was. Fang, meanwhile, was rolling awake, wiping his eyes. Could I run to the bathroom before he went into full consciousness? No. He would see me.

"Good morning, Max," he yawned, turning and pulling me into him, like this was normal. I was frozen. After about thirty seconds, he froze, too, then jumped back about a million feet. That's how terrible I looked. From the floor, he said, "Sorry."

I popped my head over the side of the bed and looked down at him. He didn't have a shirt on. My breathing picked up. "What are you doing in here? I thought you were going to sleep on the couch."

"Yeah, well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "you have the least comfortable couch ever."

"That's why I was going to take it," I said.

He shrugged.

It instantly forced the room to be filled with awkwardness.

"Alright, I'm going to go make breakfast," I said, stepping out of the bed. Fang stopped breathing. I pulled my top down, over my stomach, then stepped around him to the door.

Like he was a five year old that didn't want to leave the candy store, he reached out with his arms and held onto my ankles, hanging there. "You can _not_ cook."

"Yes I can!" I protested, trying to get his arms off of me. He held on tighter. It was stretching his torso beautifully. Also, I realized that he had some great arms. "I'm an amazing cook!"

He smirked. "_I'll_ cook. You just sit your pretty little butt down and watch the master."

I loved how he said this while I was standing above him and he was holding onto my feet.

"You know," I said, looking down at him, "I really hate that you're here this Christmas."

Why did I say it? Because I'm a bitch, that's why.

His smile fell and he let go of my feet. I instantly felt guilty.

"Sorry," he said.

"Fang, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"THERE YOU GUYS ARE!"

Of course.

Why did Fang have to come in the first place? Then, why did I have to realize that he was so sexy? And he had to insult my mad cooking skills. And here I was, feeling guilty because I hurt his feelings. Could this weekend get any better?

That was sarcasm, for the slow people out there.

Ella continued. "IT'S ONLY A FEW DAYS 'TIL CHRISTMAS!"

The next few days consisted of baking, of wrapping gifts, and of Fang and I sharing looks. Some were warm, understanding, others were annoyance, some were cold, some were just awe or confusion. It was not very fun. He even touched me a few times: His hands resting on my hips as he leaned over me to get something. On the small of my back as he led me somewhere. Over my hands as he taught me something. In my hair as he moved it so I didn't get something in it. In the loop of my jeans as he pulled me close.

You're probably like, "WAIT, WHAT?"

Yeah. He did that. And that's where I am now.

So there I was, singing to some Christmas song as it flowed from the speakers, a candy cane popped into my mouth as I sucked on it. Suddenly I was pulled back and flipped around as Fang hooked two fingers in my belt loop, and I was standing face to face with him. He slid his hand around so that it was on my back, and pushed me into him. I didn't move. I had begun to actually like Fang. I mean, he was a douche, but at least he was sweet sometimes. We had been sleeping together every night since he'd gotten here, too. His body curved as he latched onto mine. I was awoken by soft kisses on my neck and in my hair, and then we would get out and start our day. I wasn't even scared of the bug anymore. We never talked about it, and Ella never talked about it, but it was there and it was sweet. It was something new. I loved it. Plus, I slept way better with him behind me, practically one.

"It's Christmas tomorrow," he said.

"No way, really? Tomorrow! It's not on the 25th every year, is it?" I threw my hand over my mouth. With a smirk, he peeled it off and leaned in closer.

Oh, my god, what if he kissed me?

"Did you know that only a few days ago, when we were thirteen, I ruined your social life?"

No, I didn't know.

"Yes. I remember that perfectly clearly." I pulled my hand out of his. "That's why I hate you so much."

He laughed, brushing some hair out of my face. "You don't hate me." Before I could object, and show him just how much I hated him by kicking him so hard he couldn't have babies, he started again. "Listen, Max, I'm really sorry."

What. The. Hell.

Where were the hidden cameras?

"I'm sorry. But I was a teenager, very immature. And I was just messing with you because I liked you so much. So I teased you."

Another little detail: When Fang did that to me I was totally and completely in love with him, so it hurt that much more. Because boys were supposed to give you flowers when you liked them and NOT destroy your life. Fang's either stupid, or not a boy.

"You liked me?"

He nodded. "Of course I liked you. You're the prettiest girl I know."

Not _was_ the prettiest girl he _knew_. I was beaming. But only on the inside.

"Okay, why did you tease me?"

Fang smiled. "Because I liked you. That's how boys are."

I twisted my mouth to the side as I looked up at him. "So you really are sorry?"

He pulled me even closer. I put my hands on his hips. "I really am. I was a prick. And I don't want you to hate me."

I nodded. He was staring at me. Slowly, he reached out and touched his finger to my lips. "Okay, I forgive you," I blurted.

And I did. It was that easy. There was something wrong with me.

Then Ella came in. "HEY, YO. SO GUESS WH—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?"

I blushed, Fang smirked, as we broke apart.

Fang and I never spoke when we slept with each other, because then it would get weird. In the morning, it was a quick goodbye.

But here we were. An entire conversation in the morning of Christmas.

"Merry Christmas," he said, sliding his hand down my side. I was only half awake. "Meeeeeerrrrrrrryy Chrrrriiissssttammmass," he called again, tweaking my ear. I squealed and turned around, only to have him wrap his arms around me. My heartbeat got faster from the closeness. His palm was pressed into my waist, the other on my leg.

"We're going to the Martinez's today," he said.

"Yeah."

"I can't wait to see the kids."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Okay."

"Wanna join me?" with a smirk.

"No thanks." A blush.

"Alright. Bye."

LAMEST CONVERSATION EVER.

But I kind of regretted not screaming, "OF COURSE I WANNA SHOWER WITH YOU, SEXY!" when he asked. Ah, well. I needed to get ready anyway.

"MAX!" "MAX!" "MAX!" "MAX!" "MAX!" "MAX!"

"FANG!" "FANG!" "FANG!" "FANG!" "FANG!" "FANG!"

"ELLA!" "ELLA!" "ELLA!" "ELLA!" "ELLA!" "ELLA!"

Wondering why our names were called six times?

Well there was Valencia, Jeb, Angel, Gazzy, then Iggy, Ella's hot boyfriend, and his adopted sister, Nudge. Of course, they didn't all take turns and say our names. It was like the above three lines were all thrown into a bowl and mixed mercilessly.

So it really just sounded like, "..." and then we were all three attacked with hugs.

I won't describe the reunion, because that wasn't important. I'm just going to skip to after dinner.

Press the button below:

**FAST FORWARD.**

Okay.

So here we are, Fang and I, in the living room, talking about stupid shit. It wasn't that exciting, but we were laughing together. Coolio. His hand is on my thigh, and mine is on his arm as we laugh together. I'm so absorbed in him that I don't know what else is going on around us.

It happened in about three seconds. Angel was running, there was a plant above our heads, and our lips were glued together, passionate, messy, beautiful. Now, three days ago I probably would have run away screaming, washed out my mouth, then possibly killing myself a few times. I was frozen at first. Frozen, as warm hands pressed into my back and I saw, up close, how beautiful he was, the details. His eyelashes, long, were brushing my cheeks. His hair was dark as night. His skin was clear, flawless.

I closed my eyes.

This was weird; but, shit, god must have been pretty happy with himself when he made that boy's mouth. He probably even went on a vacation because he thought he deserved it for making such a thing. It was working wonders over mine.

His fingertips pressed into the small of my back and forced me closer. This was amazing. His chest was so perfect. He was a GOD. My hands went up to clutch his hair, which was silky. I felt him slide his tongue against my lips, and then the warmth was gone except for a hand that had managed to slip into the back pocket of my jeans. I looked up. No mistletoe. Then I looked forward. Mistake.

You know that moment. You're in math class, and the teacher is going on and on and on and ON. You didn't get any sleep the previous night because you were up late texting your crush. It's fourth period, right before lunch. Maybe, if you just put your head down for one second...then you're knocked out. Drooling on the desk. Talking in your sleep. Your teacher slams the textbook on your desk, your head snaps up, the ENTIRE CLASS IS STARING AT YOU. Some are holding back smiles. Others are laughing their asses off. A few of the nerds are shaking their heads in disgust.

That's how it was. Everybody was staring. Iggy and Gazzy were laughing. The girls were swooning. Jeb was shaking his head in awe.

Very embarrassing shit, yo.

I flushed red, and Fang's other hand came to rest on my thigh. I couldn't look at him. Why the hell did he kiss me?

"It's just 'cause there was mistletoe," he shrugged. So that's why. There's no way he could have, like, actually had feelings for me or anything. Dear god, not the feelings. Not the feelings! GET THE FUCKING FEELINGS AWAY FROM ME!

Heartless bastard.

Because I actually felt something in that kiss. And I had actually started to like him. And here, he only kissed me because of a fuckin' _plant._

I moved his hand off of my thigh, and his head snapped up in confusion as he looked at me in the eyes. "I'm goin' upstairs," I announced, face still burning.

I didn't cry once I was on my bed. I didn't even feel like I wanted to cry, actually. It was an amazing kiss. It wasn't my first. But it was my best. And okay, I get it. It was fun. The mistletoe was fun. The make-out was fun. But to me, it wasn't just fun. It was Fang. And I loved it. But I still didn't cry. I didn't really give a fuck. It was Christmas, I wasn't supposed to be doleful. And even now, as I kind of love Fang, because he's awesome and sweet and hot, if I could have one Christmas wish, it wouldn't be him, like that dumb song. It would be a fucking Lamborghini.

That's right. Fang has NOT turned me into a pile of mush.

I sat on the edge of my bed, smiling to myself about how awesome I was for not letting something as stupid as a bratty boy affect me, when Fang came inside. He didn't knock. I wanted to yell at him about it, just because I felt like yelling at him for _something_, but "...DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THE KISS!" would probably just end up bad for me, and the door was open, so there was nothing to knock on. Damn it.

"Hey," I said, and I wanted my voice to sound all strong and beastly, but it was all soft and "Oh, my god, I'm _lovesick_"-y, and I wanted to stab myself for it.

"Hey," he said, just as soft, without sounding girly, and sat on the bed next to me.

Get away from me, you disease.

"Look..." he said, and I leaned forward to listen to him. "I'm sorry that I kissed you. I thought...I just thought that you...I don't know. I'm sorry."

I blurted, "Sorry as in you regret it?"

He flipped out. Really. It was super fucking entertaining. He was waving his hands around everywhere, stuttering.

"N-no! Not at all! That was the greatest ki-kiss ever! I-I-I just—I know that you-you've always said that you hated me, and-and so I thought that you would be all mad at me, but this whole weekend it's seemed like we were getting along, and I've been sleeping with you, so—I don't know, you just looked so beautiful, and-and-and—"

Ah-dorable.

He sounded like a kid that had just got caught taking cookies. "No, mom, I-I-I was just seeing if FooFoo was in-in there. He's been miss-missing, and I-I-I—"

"CHARLIE, FOOFOO IS A TWO HUNDRED POUND PITBULL! HE COULD NOT FIT IN THE COOKIE JAR!"

Like that.

And you will never believe what I did next. Me. Maximum Ride. The person who never has feelings for boys ever. The person who speeds down roads like a maniac just to see buy the new bb sniper gun. The person who has only kissed one person in her life, as of ten minutes ago. Guess what I did. GUESS.

You didn't guess. You just stared, waiting for me to tell you. Lazy ass.

Alright, fine, I'll tell you.

I, MAXIMUM RIDE, KISSED FANG MARTINEZ. ON THE MOUTH. FOR AWHILE.

He was just as shocked as I was at my actions, because he FROZE. I was like, "Shit, what did I do wrong?" but then he relaxed into me, holding me so close that there wasn't a breath of air between us, and his pants were my inhales. They became hungry, as he parted our lips and lowered me into the pillows. Then he was on my neck. OH MY FUCKING GOD. And my fingers were in his hair. His lips were back on mine. I was tasting cherries. How did his tongue taste like cherries? We had been eating ham. He's too good at this.

"Hey, Max, there's something I need to tell you."

Can you tell me after you rape me please?

Where did _that_ come from? My hormones.

"Okay," I said, my breath lost.

He kissed my eyelids so that they opened, and I was staring into his onyx eyes. My hands were loped around his neck, and his were cupping my face.

"It wasn't me who did that to you in Junior High."

Okay, just kiss me, I don't wanna hear you talk—wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

He sighed, rolling so that he was next to me and stroking his hand down my body. "It was actually Iggy, but I took the blame because he knew Ella would never go out with him if she knew. So. I don't know, I just wanted to tell you because you've always kinda held that against me."

I was jumping out of bed, ready to go kill Ella's hot boyfriend, but Fang held my waist and crawled over me. He smiled down.

"But there's another thing I gotta tell you, too."

I nodded.

He brushed a kiss along my jaw, then in my ear, "I love you."

Alright:

In the movies, this is how it happens: The girl exchanges the words back, she's nearly crying. Then they make hot, passionate love until the early hours of the morning and everything is full of hearts, rainbows, and ponies.

But this is how it happened in my case: I choked on my saliva. Fang lifted me up and starting whacking me on the back to help me, but it actually hurt really bad. Then the whole rest of the family came to see. And I went downstairs for Jeb to give me a glass of water. Then we all started talking and laughing and I didn't want to tell Fang in front of everybody because I wanted it to be special, so he got this dejected look on his face and barely looked at me all night.

Fuck me.

So then we went home, and Fang sat in the front seat with Ella while I was in the back, sleepy. And I was troubled, but not troubled enough not to get my beauty sleep, and so I fell asleep into a deep slumber...

AND WHEN I WOKE UP I WAS SURROUNDED BY SEVEN DWARVES AND AN EVIL WITCH AND WAS SIMULTANEOUSLY FALLING DOWN A HUGE HOLE INTO HELL!

Not really. But in all of the books, when there's an ellipsis, something frightening HAS to happen.

When I awoke, I was in bed, with Fang's body curled around me. He was insanely close, too, but I knew that he did it in his sleep. He was angry with me. I put my hand over his on my waist and twined our fingers. After about an hour of not being able to fall asleep, I turned in his arms and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Fang," I whispered. He didn't stir. I said it four thousand times more, then I finally just shook the hell out of him until he was screaming at me, pinning me to the bed.

"What do you want, WOMAN!"

I reached up and softly dragged my hand down his cheek. "I wanted you to know that I love you, too."

He loosened his grip on my shoulders. "What?"

I leaned up to kiss him quickly. "I'm in love with you."

He cracked a smile. "Really?" I nodded. Then he leaned down and began kissing my face. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I kissed him back, dragging him down to me by pulling on his sexy, bare hips.

And then, just like the movies, we made hot, passionate love until the early hours of the morning.

Best fucking Christmas ever.


End file.
